My Maid's A Man
by Darkfire75
Summary: AU FrUk. Francis' mother sends him to work as a maid in the Kirkland household, under the name "Francine." There, he befriends the youngest of the children, Arthur, and a strange relationship is formed. Assdjds I fail at summaries.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's note:**__ Okay so, I woke up the other day with this idea for an AU where France was a male maid, disguising as a woman and Arthur was the lord he worked for. I worked off of that and wrote the fic pretty much all in one go but I'll be splitting it into chapters. I'm actually really not sure what time period I was thinking of when I wrote this. It feels kind of Victorian but then again I added in phones, so...yeah. Maybe the 1920s or something. I'm sorry if France and England seem OOC in this but this __**is**__ an AU. So enough of my blabbering. Enjoy!_

Also, for reference on who Arthur's siblings are:  
Patrick = Scotland  
Erin = Ireland  
Gareth = Wales

* * *

**_My Maid's a Man_**

**_Chapter 1_**

* * *

The day Francis Bonnefoy was given to the Kirkland family as a maid, his mother disguised him as a girl. She combed his hair neatly, put him in a pretty dress and sent him off to go make money to pay off her gambling debts. She told him to go by the name Francine around the family, that under no circumstances were they to find out he was actually a boy.

When he met Lord and Lady Kirkland for the first time, they regarded him rather coldly. He knew being French would earn immediate dislike. He bowed to them respectfully, and told them he would serve them as a maid for as long as they would have him. Lady Kirkland fell under his spell first and warmed up to him very quickly. She showed him to the maids' quarters and told him what he would be expected to do so long as he lived there.

She then called her children down, and Francis watched as 3 boys and 1 girl all descended the large staircase. The girl and what looked like the eldest boy looked nothing like their siblings, which Francis suspected might be because they had different mothers. Lord Kirkland looked the type to be easily swayed by a pretty face. His gaze stopped on the youngest of the children, a small boy no older than five years old. He noticed that all the siblings had somewhat bushy eyebrows but none were as bushy as the little boy's.

Francis, in his new maid dress, nervously stood beside Lady Kirkland. "Children," she said. "This is Francine. She will be your maid from now on."

They each stared at him curiously and he noticed the look of venom on the girl's face before she stomped away in a huff. "Francine," Lady Kirkland continued. "Would you go upstairs and prepare a bath for Arthur?" She held the hand on the youngest boy, whose green eyes almost captivated him.

"_Oui, Madame_," he said softly.

"Thank you. Oh and Francine?" Francis stopped on the stairs and looked down at her. "You are not in France anymore. Do not speak that horrid language around me or the children, do you understand?"

He swallowed hard, biting his tongue at the insult threatening to leave his mouth. "Yes, ma'am," he replied stiffly, hating her. He continued walking up the steps and had a few minutes to explore the upper floor before he heard the sounds of feet coming up the stairs and he rushed into the bathroom. He hurriedly turned the water on and waited for the tub to fill up.

Arthur walked in a few moments later, frowning at him. Francis waited for him to undress. Nothing happened. "Aren't you going to get in, my lord?" Francis finally asked.

"You're s'pposed to undress me first," the boy said.

Francis blinked and sighed, nodding his head in defeat and cursing his mother in his head for making him take this job. He lifted the ruffled shirt above Arthur's head and then pulled the shorts down. Arthur continued to stare at him and that's when Francis realized he was expected to put him in the tub as well. He lifted Arthur underneath his arms and set him into the water. He turned to leave but Arthur called him back.

"You have to wash me too," he explained. Francis blushed furiously at his mistake and sat down at the edge of the tub, grabbed a washcloth, and began to wash the boy. "You've never done this before, have you?" Arthur mumbled.

"No, I haven't," Francis replied, putting the cloth down so that he could wash the other's hair.

"I can help, if you want."

"Help?"

"I can tell you things."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Like how Father likes his tea. Or how Mum always wears a green dress on Sundays. Or how never to question what Erin and Patrick get up to when they're alone together."

Francis smiled slightly. "You would help me?"

"Mum fired our last maid 'cos she was too stupid to remember anything. I never liked her though."

"But…you like me?"

Arthur turned to look at him with a frown. "I don't know. I don't particularly dislike you. And you're the youngest maid Mum has ever hired."

He stood up and Francis took that as his queue to lift him out of the tub and to dry him off. "I gladly accept your help then, sir," he said.

Once he was dressed, Arthur led him down the hallway to his room. "You're supposed to tuck me in at night," he said as he climbed onto the bed.

Francis looked around the boy's room, smiling at all the fairytale books lying around. "Do you like fairytales, young master?" he asked.

Arthur turned pink slightly. "Yes. But no one ever reads them to me. Mum used to when I was younger but…"

"Would you like me to read one to you?"

His eyes widened. "But you need to put Gareth, Erin, and Patrick to bed. You don't have the time."

"I can make time," Francis replied, sitting down on the chair beside the bed. "Which book would you like me to read?"

Arthur was very poor at hiding his excitement. He pointed to a green book settled on his top bookshelf. "There's many fairytales in there."

Francis nodded and stood up to get it. "'_The Green Fairy Book_'? Is that right?"

The young boy nodded his head enthusiastically. "Yes, that's the one!"

"Which story would you like me to read?"

"All of them!"

Francis chuckled. "I can't read them all tonight, _mon petit_." Then he gasped and covered his mouth with his hand. "I-I'm sorry. Forgive me."

"For what?" Arthur asked as he cocked his head to the side. "You didn't say anything bad."

"I…I spoke French. Lady Kirkland told me not to."

"Well, I don't mind it. You can speak it around me."

Francis felt relieved. "You would let me?"

"Sure, you're not hurting anyone by speaking it."

"Thank you," Francis said. "I will read one story tonight and then sing you a song my mother used to sing to me before I slept, okay?" He opened the book and watched the boy's green eyes light up as soon as he turned the page. "Once upon a time…"

A few minutes later, Arthur was nearly asleep. Francis put the book down and tucked him into bed. "Are you still awake?" he asked.

"Yes," came the whispered reply. "Are you going to sing to me or not?"

He laughed. "Such a demanding young master I have. All right. _Frère Jacques, frère Jacques, Dormez-vous? Dormez-vous? Sonnez les matines! Sonnez les matines! Din, dan, don. Din, dan, don._"

Arthur blinked his tired eyes. "It sounds nice."

"Go to sleep, young master. I will see you in the morning."

"G'night, Francine."

Francis exited his room, and nearly bumped into another maid. "Oh goodness child!" the older woman exclaimed. "You must watch yourself. And-why are you just leaving the youngest master's room _now_?"

"I was reading him a bedtime story," Francis said.

The other maid's eyes widened. "Stupid girl! You're supposed to spend a minute tucking him in and then move on to the next child!"

"Yes, but-"

"No buts! Now go put the girl and eldest boy to sleep. I'll deal with the other."

Francis watched her leave, and wondered just how he was going to survive working for this family.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's note:**__ So in this chapter, begins the __**real**__ story. Basically, 18 years have passed. Arthur is now 23 and Francis is 26. At age 20, Arthur moved out of his family's house and bought his own mansion, taking Francis with him to continue being his own personal maid. _

_Also, in case it's not obvious, __Søren = Denmark._

* * *

_**My Maid's A Man**_

**_Chapter 2_**

* * *

18 years later

"Rise and shine, young master!" Francis wasn't in the mood for playing around with Arthur today. He had just endured twenty minutes of shaving his legs, chest, and underarms and the small wisps of facial hair around his chin. He was feeling less masculine by the minute.

Arthur groaned and rolled over on his overly large bed. "S'too early," he grumbled.

"It is 9:30 sharp, sir. Your mother wanted you up and ready by 10."

"My head hurts."

"That is what you get for staying out drinking all night."

"Francine, why are you so cruel?"

"I am not being cruel. I am trying to get you up." He grabbed the sheets and pulled hard. Arthur fell to the floor with a thump.

"Bloody woman!" he growled and then moaned as his head throbbed. "Just…get me a cup of a tea, would you? And a suit."

"Your mother has already prepared a suit for you, sir."

Francis held up the audacious outfit and Arthur squinted at it. "Oh that's awful. She honestly expects me to wear something that gaudy?" Francis shrugged. "Shred it, Francine. I'll tell Mother the cat got it."

"You haven't got a cat, sir."

"…the alley cat got it."

"Of course." Arthur untangled himself from the bed sheets and let them fall to the floor, revealing himself to both Francis and the maid entering the room with his tea. The older woman shrieked while Francis sighed and caught the tea cup before it smashed to the floor. "You really should go to bed with _some_ sort of underwear, sir," Francis said with a shake of his head.

"Why?" Arthur grumbled, taking the tea cup and sipping from it. "It never bothers _you_."

"Yes, but the other unfortunate souls who work here do not need to see your manhood first thing in the morning."

Arthur grinned then. "You sly vixen, you just want me all to yourself."

Francis rolled his eyes. "Yes, _monsieur_. That is my deepest, darkest desire. Now would you please get dressed and go meet your mother?"

With a wave of his hand, Arthur told him to leave his room and Francis was only too happy to. He breathed a sigh of relief and watched his step as he walked down the staircase. "Francine, is the master decent yet?" another maid asked.

"He's working on it, Isabel," he replied.

"Oooh that man is so infuriating! I don't understand how you can constantly deal with him!"

"We have…a long history together." He smiled fondly.

"He's coming, he's coming!" another maid cried. Francis rushed out to go greet him.

Arthur was standing still, waiting for Francis to come fix him up. "You never tie your tie correctly," Francis sighed heavily, reaching to fix it.

"Perhaps it is just my excuse to have your hands on me," he winked.

"Save the flirtatious talk for your potential brides, sir," Francis said with a roll of his eyes.

"Brides, right," he mumbled.

"You do not want to marry?"

"I want to marry who _I_ want to marry, not who my mother chooses for me."

Francis stepped back and observed him. "I think you are ready."

"Good, 'cos I want to get this over with quickly. I'll meet the girls, reject them, and then come home."

"Sounds like a wonderful plan, sir."

Arthur reached for his top hat and cane by the door. "See you at noon, Francine." The moment he was out the door, everyone in the servants' quarters breathed a sigh of relief.

* * *

"Tell me again why you're late," Lady Kirkland hissed under her breath to her son as she smiled at the women coming to greet them.

"I told you, Mother," Arthur snarled, bowing to a pretty brunette. "I overslept."

"And Francine did not wake you?"

"She did. I just refused to get up."

She sighed deeply. "I don't understand why you must constantly be avoiding these meetings."

"Because I don't want to choose a wife, Mother."

She looked scandalized. "You are 23 years of age, Arthur!" she gasped. "What else do you plan to do with your life?"

"I rather enjoy drinking, honestly."

"I do not understand why you are like this. Your father—"

"Is a right bastard, and don't you ever deny it. I don't ever want to be like him."

Pursing her lips tightly, she turned back to the women. "Won't you just give them a chance?"

"Fine. Excuse me, miss?" he called to a blonde. She blushed slightly as she walked over to him. He took her hand and placed a kiss on it. "What is your name?"

"L-Lady Olivia Gladfield, my lord," she giggled.

"I see. And what do you do in your spare time?"

Her smile faded suddenly. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Your hobbies, Miss Gladfield. What are they?" he growled.

"O-Oh, well I like to pick wildflowers from the garden and—"

"Picking wildflowers from your garden," he repeated, looking to his mother in triumph. "I'm sorry, my dear, but that's not the answer I was looking for." He faked a smile and turned to leave.

"Arthur!" his mother shouted. "You can't just leave!"

"I can and I will, Mother," he said coolly, looking over his shoulder. "My _maid_ has better hobbies than these women. Until you can find someone who suits my tastes, I will remain a bachelor. Good day."

* * *

"And then she tells me that her hobby is picking wildflowers from her garden!" Arthur exclaimed over dinner as Francine served him. "I swear, I don't know where my mother finds these bloody tarts."

Francis chuckled. "So I see you won't be winning any hearts anytime soon."

"Not from that lot." He sighed and rested his hand in his palm. "Sometimes I wish life could be simple like in those fairytales. Prince finds his princess. The end. None of this other shit to deal with."

"I'm sorry," Francis mumbled.

"For what? It's not your fault my family's the way it is."

"No, but I encourage your horrible behavior."

Arthur smirked. "The only woman who does."

Francis stiffened. He always seemed to forget he _wasn't_ a woman, especially around Arthur. They would snark back and forth as though they weren't just master and maid, but good friends as well.

"I must be mad, then," Francis said as he went to do the dishes.

Arthur stood up and wrapped his arms around Francis' waist. "Come sit down with me," he purred against his ear. "Enjoy the lunch that you made."

"I-I really can't, sir. The dishes—"

"Leave them for Caroline." He pulled away with a charming smile and wiggled his eyebrows, making Francis laugh suddenly. "Wot?" he said, smile dropping from his face. "What's so funny?"

"Y-Your eyebrows."

"What about them?" he snarled.

"Sir," he giggled, "they look like caterpillars when you move them like that."

He pouted. "Francine, I do not pay you to make fun of me."

"I'm sorry," he chuckled.

"Why is it so easy to talk with you?" Arthur muttered. "With other women it's so bloody _boring_ but with you…I actually can have conversations with you and I'm never bored."

"Perhaps you have not found the right woman, sir."

"Perhaps." Francis wasn't about to point out that he wasn't really a woman, but he hadn't told anyone in 18 years and he wasn't about to blow his cover yet. He had long since paid off his mother's debts but she was ill now, and as much as he disliked her, he needed the job to help pay for her medical bills. He was especially happy once Arthur moved out of his family's home and bought his own mansion and took Francis with him to be his personal maid.

Over their years together, Francis and Arthur had become close, almost friends in a sort of strange way. Arthur had barbaric friends that he liked to go out drinking with, which Francis didn't particularly like since all he did was complain of hangovers the next morning, but he accepted it. It was getting harder and harder to hide his real self though. His voice hurt from constantly keeping it at a decently feminine pitch and the hair on his body wanted to grow desperately and although he knew he looked beautiful in the maid dress, he would have preferred being able to live as a man.

"Well, it's about time I was off," Arthur said suddenly. "Gilbert and Søren will be waiting at the bar for me."

"Drinking again?" Francis scowled.

"I know you hate my habits, but it's the only time I can spend time with men my own age."

Francis frowned. "You can't expect me to carry you to your room every time, sir."

Arthur waved him off. "I know, I know. I promise I'll only drink a pint tonight."

Hours later, when the clock struck midnight, Francis was woken by the sound of knocking on the front door. He stood and went to open it, shocked to see two men flushed red and holding Arthur up.

"Hi, Francine," the man holding Arthur's right arm leered. "Artie drank a little too much tonight again."

"Always a pleasure to see you, Gilbert," Francis said stiffly. "And you, Søren."

"Arthur doesn't realize how good you are to him," the Dane said as he helped lift the Englishman into Francis' arms.

"I can take it from here, boys. Thank you for bringing him home." They nodded to him and left. Francis shut the door and sighed and he half-dragged Arthur up the stairs. "What am I going to do with you?" he whispered. He stumbled a bit as he reached the top of the stairs and fell into the wall with Arthur pressed flush against him. Arthur suddenly jerked awake and opened his eyes. Francis panicked. Arthur's hand was on his fake breast and once Arthur realized that, he gave a lazy smirk and squeezed. "S-Sir, that is-"

"Your tit's not as squishy as I thought it'd be," he slurred.

"What?"

"Your tit," Arthur said and squeezed the fake breast again, "it's not that squishy."

"I-I'm sorry?" Arthur removed his hand and then moved it down lower, going under Francis' dress. "N-No!" Francis cried. "Arthur!"

The grin on Arthur's face faltered slightly. Francis felt his finger on his cock and then it moved down to his balls and Arthur squinted his eyes as though seeing something no one else could. "Well that's different," he said before fainting dead away. Francis took a deep breath, the blush on his face disappearing. He hoisted Arthur back up and dragged him into his room.

"That was too close," he mumbled to himself.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's note:**__ FFFFFF I'm sorry I didn't update this earlier! Stuff happened and I put off posting it. But it's here now c: I'm trying to get as much motivation as I can to finish my chapter fanfics. I've got quite a few started but none of them finished .///.;;;_

Also, the other maids are NOT aware that 'Francine' is actually a man. Some of them might suspect, but he won't ever tell them.

* * *

_**My Maid's A Man**_

**_Chapter 3_**

* * *

The next morning, Arthur rolled over in bed with a goofy smile on his face. "Francine, I had an odd dream about you last night."

"Oh?" Francis said as he opened the shades.

"Yeah, I touched your tit. And it wasn't squishy at all," he murmured. "And then I put my hand up your dress and you, listen to this, you had a cock! Like a man! Isn't that funny?"

Francis paled slightly. "Oh…yes. Very funny."

"Oi."

"Yes?"

"Can I feel your tit?"

Francis threw a pillow at him. "Monsieur, you need to be completely sober when your sister arrives today."

"Oh who cares," he growled. "Erin drinks more than I ever do. Why should I try to impress her? She hates me anyway."

"Regardless, she is still your sister and I am obliged to make you look presentable. You've got drool on your chin, by the way."

Arthur flopped down on the bed. "I don't want to get up."

"Don't make me flip the bed, sir."

Arthur smiled into his pillow. "I'm naked under here."

"No you're not, I made sure to keep your underwear on last night when tucking you in."

The Englishman frowned. "Well now you've gone and ruined all my fun."

"Good. Now get dressed."

Francis left his room, trying to make the blush on his cheeks go away. Normally Arthur's flirting never got to him but lately…lately he had been getting more and more flustered by it. He knew Arthur never really meant it; he wasn't interested in finding a woman yet but Francis had to mentally berate himself for that because he wasn't _really_ a woman, he was a man. But regardless, Arthur would never want him.

Arthur came out of his room a few minutes later, scowling angrily. "She left to get _away_ from me all those years ago, I don't understand why she suddenly wants to see me now."

"Perhaps she misses you?"

He snorted. "Oh please. You know how Erin is."

A second later the doorbell rang. Another maid rushed to answer the door and a woman in her late twenties walked in, her curly red hair pulled into an elegant bun. She wore a feathered hat atop her head. As soon as she spotted Arthur, her green eyes narrowed. "Brother," she sneered.

"Bitch," Arthur replied cheerfully. Francis elbowed him in the side.

Erin raised her eyebrows at the familiar blonde. "Hello, Francine."

Francis bowed. "Good to see you again, my lady."

"Don't lie," Arthur hissed under his breath. "So Erin," he said loudly. "What brings you back to England?"

"Mother called."

"Of course," he groaned. They settled down in the sitting room while Francis busied himself bringing in their tea.

"She tells me you won't take a woman," Erin continued, sniffing the tea in disgust.

"There are no women to be taken," he said. "And for heaven's sake, the tea is fine. Just drink it."

She took a sip and pursed her lips. "There are plenty women who'll have you, I'm sure."

"Oh yes, many. I just don't want _them_."

Francis laughed softly. Erin, unfortunately, heard him. "You find this amusing, Francine?"

Francis turned around. "N-No, of course not."

"My brother will forever be a shame to this family and it's all your fault."

"Now wait just a minute!" Arthur hissed. "_Her_ fault? How on earth is it her fault?"

"She is the only woman you have ever truly known. She's put a spell on you, brother."

"Oh please. Francine is just my _maid_, Erin. It's not like I love her or anything."

Francis stopped listening then, realizing with a heavy heart that no matter how much he might care for Arthur, he could never tell him; not as Francine and not as himself. He left the room, holding back the tears that wanted to fall. Once he was in the servants' quarters, he leaned against the door and took deep, rattling breaths.

"I heard raised voices," another maid said. "Are they arguing? F-Francine? What's the matter, darling?" She walked towards him, motherly instincts kicking in.

Francis shook his head. "It's nothing, Martha. J-Just something in my eye."

"Oh dear, what's the master said? He's not firing you, is he?"

"No, nothing like that," he mumbled, leaning into her touch. He had missed the touch of a mother for so long.

"Shh, it's all right. Those two will keep arguing long into the night, you can bet your salary on that. I'll whip you up a little something, how does that sound?"

"_Merci,_" he whispered.

* * *

By the time Erin left, Arthur was exhausted. Francine had left sometime during the argument and he wasn't keen on finding her just to make him dinner so he grabbed his coat and went off to the bar yet again. Gilbert and Søren were already there, ordering pint after pint of beer.

"So how was the meeting?" Gilbert sneered.

"Disastrous," Arthur groaned, slumping down on the table. "Erin never knows when to shut her goddamn mouth."

"I like a woman who uses her mouth," Søren laughed.

"Yes, well she uses _hers_ to talk my bloody ear off."

The other two laughed. "So why'd she even come in the first place?" the Dane asked.

"My mother called her." Arthur reached for a glass of beer and chugged it down. "Said I need to find a proper woman to marry. Bollocks."

"You don't have your eye on anyone?" Gilbert said.

"All the women I meet are stiff and boring."

"And what about your maid?"

Arthur blinked. "Francine? Well I…She's not really…I mean I always flirted with her but I never actually _meant_ it."

"But would she be the type of woman you'd marry?" Søren mumbled.

"She's French, by default I should hate her."

"So? She's beautiful and you always say how much you like her company, Artie."

"I do, but—"

"Have you even kissed her?"

"Of course not, she's my maid. It's indecent."

Gilbert groaned. "You need to stop putting on this gentleman act. It's fucking annoying."

Arthur glared at him. "What do you want me to do? Take her to my bed and have my way with her?"

"Exactly!"

"I can't do that!"

"Why not?"

"I just…I can't, all right?!"

Arthur was so furious he couldn't finish drinking and ended up leaving the bar early. When he came home, Francine was cleaning up the kitchen.

"You're home early," she said in shock. "Did something happen with your friends?"

"I was too tired to drink, that's all," he mumbled.

"Sir…?"

"Francine, am I an undesirable man?"

She stared at him curiously, furrowing her brow. "Why are you asking me such a question?"

"Just answer it."

He noted how her cheeks turned pink suddenly. "I have always found you to be a handsome man, sir."

"Really?" He walked towards her, taking a lock of her golden hair into his fingers. "I was always under the impression that I disgusted you with my habits."

"Perhaps it is because I am so used to your habits that I still find you desirable?"

He smiled, caressing her face. "Thank you, Francine." He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "I am going to bed. Wake me up early tomorrow. I have something I must buy."


	4. Chapter 4

_**Author's note:**__ Here's chapter 4~ Not my favorite chapter, I wanted it to end more dramatically, but I'll have to live with it :x I like Martha. She's one of those random OC characters you slip into a fic who takes on a role on their own without meaning to. She's kind of like a motherly figure to all the maids, but she has a soft spot for Francis. And like I said in the first chapter...no idea what time period this is, but apparently now there are phones. So yeah. Also, SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT. A LOT of stuff has happened within the last few months._

* * *

_**My Maid's A Man**_

**Chapter 4**

* * *

Francis' cheek still tingled from where Arthur had kissed it the night before. He knew he was treading on thin ice now. His heart had been beating so fast and he had been worried Arthur would have heard it. "My dear, you are so flustered," Martha said that afternoon. Arthur had been gone all day, off shopping for something.

"I'm fine," Francis answered quickly.

"You're blushing." Then she gasped. "Oh goodness, are you in love?"

"Martha!" he hissed, but he didn't bother to correct her.

"Oh my dear Francine, who is it? The gardener? The horseman?" He shook his head. "Well then who is it, dear girl? I mean I've named off every man I know except the master-" Francis looked away, embarrassed, and Martha understood immediately. "Oh Francine," she whispered. She stroked Francis' hair. "You haven't told him, I hope."

"Of course not," Francis muttered. "I want to keep my job."

"You poor dear. I've seen plenty young girls like you fall for their masters and it never ends well. Promise me you'll be careful."

Francis wanted to point out that he was different from all those girls because he was a man, but he held his tongue and nodded.

When Arthur returned home, he didn't look like he'd just been shopping for the better part of the morning. He carried no bags with him either. "Did you find what you were looking for, sir?" he asked.

Arthur glanced at him with a shy expression suddenly. "I…I think so, yes."

Francis stared after him in confusion. And then the phone rang and he rushed to answer it. "Yes, Lord Kirkland's house?" he said.

_"Is there a Miss Francine Bonnefoy there?"_ a deep voice answered.

"Y-Yes. I am Francine. Who is this?"

_"I'm Dr. Sutherland, I was the caring physician for your mother. I'm afraid she's just passed away."_

Francis let the news sink in for a few moments. He realized he should feel sad but after everything his mother had put him through, he honestly could not bring himself to care. "I see," he said finally. "Thank you for telling me."

_"Don't you want to see her?"_

"No. Just cremate her and be done with it." He hung up quickly, feeling a sudden heavy weight lift off his shoulders. He had no reason to continue working for Arthur now. But he found that he still wanted to. Arthur had been in his life since he was a young child. Just packing up and leaving without saying anything didn't feel right.

"Who was that, dear?" Martha asked.

"My mother's doctor," Francis replied. "He said she's passed away."

"Oh I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be."

Martha blinked in confusion. "Francine?"

Francis sighed as he walked up the stairs towards Arthur's bedroom. Just as he entered, he could have sworn Arthur hid something under his pillow. And he was blushing furiously. "_Monsieur_?" he said. "Is something wrong?"

"Of course not, everything is fine," the Brit said curtly.

"Excuse me while I _don't_ believe that."

"I don't pay you to believe what I do and not say, Francine."

Francis bit his lip and nodded. "Forgive me, sir. I was just coming to see if you were planning on staying for dinner tonight."

"I don't think so," he said, and Francis frowned deeply. "It's not you, Francine. I just…I want to see Gilbert and Søren. I need to talk to them about something."

"Very well. I won't wait up for you, sir." Francis left the room, suddenly fearing that Arthur was starting to dislike having him around. Perhaps it _was_ time he finally left.

* * *

"You _what_?"

"I bought a ring for her," Arthur said, smiling cheekily.

"Do you think she'll even accept it?" Gilbert asked as he stared at the ring in the box.

"Of course she will. What woman wouldn't?"

"You're forgetting something, Artie. She's your _maid_. What makes you think she even likes you like that?"

"Well…she must. How on earth could she stand taking care of me for so long?"

"So you admit you're a horrible person?" Søren sneered.

"Oh shut up. She's going to love it," Arthur mumbled as he stared at the ring.

"You really love her, don't you?"

His face turned pink. "I-I guess I do, don't I?"

* * *

Francis was packing his things, hoping to leave the mansion before Arthur even returned home. He was just lifting his suitcase when he heard the front door open. He cursed under his breath.

"Francine?" Arthur was calling for him. It was now or never. He stepped out from the servants' quarters towards the other man. "Ah, there you are," Arthur said happily. "T-There's something I want to tell you."

"There's something I've wanted to tell you as well," Francis said softly.

"Oh? Well you can go first then."

Francis looked down at his feet before he lifted his head up. It was now or never. "I…I am a man."

"Great! And I'm in love with y—Wait. What did you just say?" Arthur's green eyes were wide in absolute shock.

Francis swallowed hard. "My name is really Francis—"

"W-What are you saying? You must be joking. F-Francine?"

"My mother forced me to take a job as your maid when I was younger because I was pretty like a girl," he explained, telling himself the horrified look on Arthur's face wasn't painful to look at. "She told me I was to go by the name 'Francine' and to never tell anyone my secret. But she is dead now and I no longer need to pay for her debts or her bills."

"Y-You've lied to me…all this time? All these years?" He clenched his hands into fists. "How _dare_ you!" Francis winced. "You are not my Francine!"

Francis felt his own heart breaking just a little. "I am sorry, _mon ami_."

"Don't…Don't use your French words in my presence. Just…Just get out. Leave! I never want to see your face again, do you hear me?" Francis saw the tears falling down Arthur's face but chose to ignore them. He steeled himself and reached for his suitcase.

"You're in luck," he mumbled. "I was already planning to leave."

That seemed to shatter the other man completely. "W-Well good riddance! Get out of my house, you filthy French liar! OUT!" he roared. Francis wasted no time, running until he was out and down the street, not daring to look back and not bothering to hide the tears that were falling down his cheeks.

Arthur slammed the door shut, glaring at the other maids that were watching from their rooms. "What are you all looking at?" he shouted. He ran towards his room and reached for the tiny box in his coat pocket. He stared at it a few moments before letting out a horrible cry and throwing it out the window. He curled up on his bed, trying to comprehend everything that had just happened. _A man…she was a man all this time? And she never…really cared about me. Not once. She just wanted the money. A fool. I'm a fool for falling for her…__**his**__ charms._ He covered his mouth with his hand to stifle his sobs. "Francine," he whispered. "I loved you so much…"

* * *

**DUN. DUN. DUUUUUUUUN. ***cue dramatic music*


	5. Chapter 5

_**Author's note:**__ OH MY GOD. I AM SO SORRY FOR MAKING YOU GUYS WAIT SO LONG. I kept putting off posting this chapter because for some reason I kept seeing problems with it but I can't keep you guys waiting in suspense forever so here it is! Chapter 5! It's pathetically short...I'm sorry. OTL I hope you like it anyway?_

* * *

**_ My Maid's A Man_**

**_ Chapter 5 _**

**_

* * *

_**

Nearly four days later, Arthur still hadn't left his room. The other maids were beginning to seriously worry for him. Eventually, he stumbled down the stairs, looking worse than any of them had ever seen him. His eyes were bloodshot, his shirt was a mess, and he wasn't wearing any pants.

"Sir?" one of the maids mumbled. "Sir, are you all right?"

He turned to look at her, squinting. "I'm fine, don't I look it?" he replied.

"U-Um…"

"Oh for heaven's sake, young master," Martha snarled. "You've been like this ever since you ordered Francine to leave! If you miss her so much, go get her back!"

"Name's Francis," he groaned, sitting down at the table. "And I don't even know where he is now…"

"Well then ask around! There's no good in just moping about the house, is there?"

Arthur blinked his tired eyes at her. "And what'll I say if I find him?"

"What you planned to say four nights ago, of course!"

"But that's when I thought he was a girl," he whined.

"So? Have your feelings changed because you suddenly realized Francine wasn't the gender you thought?" Martha forced him to stand up. "Now clean yourself up, sir, and go out there and bring Francine back."

Arthur wobbled on his feet for a moment. "I must be utterly mad to listen to you," he muttered, turning on his heel to walk back up the stairs towards his bathroom. He showered and dressed, making a face at himself in the mirror. "I feel foolish," he said once he was back in the kitchen with the other maids.

"You look handsome," Martha said with a smile. "Now don't say anything stupid when you find him."

"Right, right." Arthur walked out of the mansion only to stop a few steps and groan loudly. _Where the fuck do I even start looking?_

* * *

Francis wanted to say he was lucky to be able to get a job as a waiter/bartender at the local pub but he didn't feel very lucky. The pay was mediocre compared to what he'd been making at the Kirkland household and the patrons were horribly crude men who tried to hit on him repeatedly. He was starting to miss Arthur already.

"Francis, table seven needs their drinks!" his boss shouted.

"Coming right up, monsieur," he mumbled. The door flung open suddenly and a figure stood in the doorway in regal clothes and Francis stared at him a few moments before feeling his jaw drop.

"Excuse me," Arthur said loudly. "I'm looking for someone."

"Are you, my lord?" Francis' boss asked with a grin. "In this part of town?"

"It's the last place I haven't checked. I'm looking for a man who is as pretty as a woman who goes by the name of Francis. Have you seen him, my good man?"

Francis wanted to murder his boss as soon as the crooked old man pointed in his direction. Arthur's face brightened up immediately. "Francis!" he called. Francis scowled.

"Yes?" he sneered.

"It's me, Arthur!"

"I know who you are."

"Good! So come back with me!"

"In case you have not realized, my lord, I am now employed here."

"So quit and come back to work for me!"

"Non."

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows. "Now wait just one moment. I search all over the bloody city for you and when I finally find you, you refuse to come back with me?"

"Yes, that is about right. Would you leave now, sir? You are bothering the customers." Which was a lie. He was mostly just bothering Francis.

"Francis, I order you to come back this instant!" He smirked, thinking that with a simple order, Francis would oblige.

"I'm sorry, I believe you fired me, if memory serves me right." Francis smiled cruelly as Arthur sputtered to think of something else to say.

"W-Well then I want a drink!" he cried, pounding the bar table. "I won't leave until you give me a drink."

Francis rolled his eyes. "Still drinking I see."

Arthur sat himself down at the bar, glaring angrily at the Frenchman currently preparing his beverage. "I have to say, I liked you better in the dress," the Brit sneered suddenly.

Francis whirled around, hating him in an instant. "Hold your tongue, sir, if you wish to keep it."

"Is that a threat? Are you threatening me?" Arthur was taunting him, trying to make him do something that would make his boss fire him. Oh how he despised the spoiled Englishman right then and there.

He shoved the drink towards Arthur, watching as he chugged it down greedily. "Mm, not bad," he said. "I want another."

"But you said—"

"I'll tip nicely," he chuckled. An hour later, Arthur was falling over the table, completely drunk. Francis' boss, while laughing, told him to take the man home. Despite his protests, he ended up dragging Arthur back towards the mansion.

"Just once I would like to live life without you around," he hissed. "I am sick of your attitude and—"

"Oi," Arthur grumbled.

"What?" he snapped.

A lazy smile spread across Arthur's face. "You're carrying me home. Does that mean you're coming back?"

"No. It means you are too drunk to return home yourself and that I am not so horrible as to leave you for the dogs. Now shut up."

As soon as they entered the mansion, the maids surrounded them but Francis pushed past them and dragged the other man up the stairs towards his bedroom. He tossed Arthur onto the bed and turned to leave, when he heard, "Wait."

He sighed and turned around. Arthur smiled up at him weakly. "What do you want now?" he growled.

"I'm sorry," Arthur mumbled. "I was a right bastard, I know."

"I am not coming back just because you said sorry."

"I know that." Arthur turned on his side. "The mansion's been so lonely without you."

"You have the other maids."

"It's not the same."

Francis frowned and sat on the edge of the bed. "You are the one who told me to leave and never come back."

Arthur was silent, then he whispered, "I know."

"What made you change your mind?"

"I love you," he said and Francis felt his eyes widen. "I know that means nothing to you now, so I hoped I could change myself so that you could love me back someday."

"I'm not a woman."

"I know you're not. I don't care what you are, I'd love you anyway."

Francis' heart was pounding in his chest. "W-Well are you going to sleep or not?"

"Will you be here when I wake up?"

"No."

"Then I won't go to sleep."

"_Arthur_," he hissed and Arthur laughed. "What is so funny?"

"That's the first time you've ever called me by my name," he said smiling.

"Yes, well…good night." He stood up and was almost out the door again when Arthur called him back.

"I swear to you, Francis. I will become a man you can love."

Francis raised his eyebrows. "What confidence you have."

"I'll see you tomorrow."

Francis was out the door, leaving Arthur alone. Again.


End file.
